


Lady MacBeth, I Crown Thee

by Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Dark Will Graham, F/M, M/M, Multi, Past Abuse, Polyamory, Visions in dreams, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-12-23 14:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11991576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492/pseuds/Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492
Summary: Elizabeth Larter is discovered upon the crime scene of the death of a serial killer. The woman is considered dangerous, and perhaps that is why Will Graham and Hannibal are the ones to take her.A/N: I am truly bad at summaries





	1. Chapter 1

She is found in the dark of the night-an old cabin that was already collapsing in on itself from weather damage is where they find her. Although no one was truly searching for  _her_. She knew that as the cold night air burned away at her throat and lungs that seemed to strain for air. She knew that when they finally found their killer and looked at her with something akin to horror.

 

She doesn't blame them for that either.

Everything simply becomes numb as they pull her from her place that  _he_ had placed her on. As they cleansed her body of blood and grim and replaced what she had worn for so long with a white clinical gown. Leaving her skin as an odd pink- _or is that red?_ -color that she can't remember ever having on her skin. Which feels almost as foreign as the hot trickles of water that drips onto her back from where the gown does not meet. Different from the cold rain that he had given to her when he was in better moods from better promises.

It wasn't until they began placing needles and wires into her when she finally tried to speak. Words not forming as something sounding like a wounded animal escaped from dry lips. Only to be smothered as darkness took over;  _new, unfamiliar from the woods._

 

_His name is MacBeth._

_That is what he tells her when he first brings her to his castle in the woods._

_The castle isn't what she had always seen castles as. There was no tall towers of stone or dragons guarding the princess above. Only rotten wood, vines, and more candles than she can ever remember seeing in one place._

_MacBeth kneels before her. Dressed in odd clothing with a crown of bent golden metal upon his crimson hair. A dark glint in his eyes. One that had not been there before when he had pulled her from the park where she had been playing. In one hand, he holds a bloody knife, and in the other is a large piece of meat. Dripping blood into the creases of the wood they stand upon._

_"The heart of Duncan. Of heaven nor hell, Hecate will find us, and bind us where we shall rule."_

_The thick clumps of blood that laver over the thick meat is raised until it presses against her mouth. She takes a hesitant bite. Fear tells her to do so, even when it becomes hard to chew and the smell burns her nose until her eyes water she does not stop._

_"Was that so bad?" MacBeth ask, a bloody hand smearing the tears across her cheeks until she shakes her head._

_"Come my Queen. I will give you what you have always needed."_

* * *

Alana Bloom in all of her years had not seen anything like what had come in. 

There were the records of course: searching through files of missing person cases until she came across someone that would be old enough if they were still alive. Though nothing could shake the report that had been given to her by Crawford.

The young woman had been found tied to a worn wooden throne by old barbed wire. Keeping her body and arms, legs and shoulders, in perfect place. A dress that she had long grown out of covered her body. Taken from a festival of some sort-renaissance? With a crown of spikes wrapped within her dark matted curls until it had at some point pierced her scalp. The imagery alone was odd, only matched by the psychological damage that she must have suffered. Something that could possibly only be countered by physical damage.

There were open wounds still healing from the spikes and barbed wire, some showing possible signs of past infection. Scars covered her body from where the wire had been ripped away and replaced. A sign that perhaps he had learned from his mistakes from a past infection she must have suffered. Then, there was the damage to her lungs, caused by sickness in the past that had gone untreated. Rips alongside her nails were he must have ripped them out instead of clipping them for her, and there was the more complicated issue involving her menstrual cycle. At some point she did have one, he had even shown signs of worshipping it, though from malnourish practices and bad conditions her body had long since stopped working properly for someone her age.

 

"You called?" The sound of his voice made her jump. Fingers twitching around the files that she had been reading over repeatedly.

Standing at the doorway was Will Graham looking worse for wear, Dr. Lecter not far behind with that same intense, impressive gaze that she had gotten used to over time. Alana brushed off the feeling that crept against her skin as she picked up the files and motioned for them to follow.

"As you know, Jack caught the Shakespeare Killer, but that wasn't all that was found in the woods. He kept someone-a young woman-who is beyond damaged. Jack of course wishes to interview her, but I would prefer a different course of action." 

"You would like for us to help? Assuming that is why you called Mr. Graham instead of just I."

 

Alana pulled open the blinds, showing the patient on the other side of the pristine glass. The broken body of her patient remained unmoving on her hospital bed, clean. Far from what had first been brought in.

"This is Elizabeth Larter. Also called Lady MacBeth by her captor."

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Baltimore Psychiatric Facility_.

 

_Elizabeth Larter._

 

_0199721000._

That was what the words read on the plastic band that they had placed on her when she had finally awoke. 

A chill ran across her skin as she sat up from the plastic and paper and metal that they had placed her on. Her skin left bare in the thin gown they had put her in. Unlike what he had always made her wear. Though nothing truly held a comparison, but that was all she had wasn't it? Those people had placed her somewhere new that she cannot remember ever seeing before. 

 

"Miss Larter," a dark haired woman said as she stepped into the room. "I am Doctor Alana Bloom." The woman seemed calm as she sat across from her with a clipboard and pen in hand. "I have a few questions for you. If you don't mind."

_"Yes."_

Was that her voice? Her lungs strained, throat and nose burning as she smelled the air, but the sound that came out seemed weak. 

 

"Did you ever help him kill, Miss Larter?"

"No. He always killed Duncan."

Pause. The doctors brows thoroughed before she began writing. 

"Duncan. Like the King."

"Yes."

"And would you mind telling me the first things you remember him ever saying to you. Or doing. After you began- _living_ with him?"

 

 

_He was late._

_The fourth candle had gone out, and he had not returned as he normally did. Fifth, Sixth, Seventh-_

 

_When he does return there is blood like always. Yet, there is more, and he holds more than Duncan in his hand. Blue eyes catch her own before he sets them down on the alter. Steps following quickly as he begins to remove her from her spot. It hurt, it always did, but the pain meant that there was something to come._

_MacBeth pulled her over to the steps-the alter-cold air and trees brushing against the opening above. A cross. Until her attention is drawn back to him-the flesh of the king, and something new. A necklace. Three long strings, connected, with something that reminds her of her mommy's pearls, but these aren't pearls despite their color. Teeth. Stringed on just as her own that sat in her mouth._

_He placed them around her neck, tugging gently, until the teeth pull against her skin._

_He's pleased-content-good._

_She eats Duncan as always until her hands become stained with crimson. His dark blue eyes watching her movements until she is done and then he picks her up. Lays her down until the wood steps dig into the cuts on her back. The statues of the three witches looking down upon her as he pulled her dress up-_

 

"Miss Larter?"

She is shaking. He never liked it when she did that. Were others like that? Was that why they had strapped her down inside the  _ambulance._ Was that why she was in this room? She must have-must have done something wrong and this was her punishment.

"Miss Larter. The question." Calm.

The unnatural lights flash against the woman before her before she remembers. "Yes. Sorry. I-I was always fed by him. From Duncan. Sometimes he would give me other things if I was good though. If I bled-I used to a lot-he would give me a gift and feed me on the alter instead of the throne. I stopped bleeding though, he stopped trying-"

Elizabeth pursed her lips. If she said too much then she would get in trouble.

"What did he stop trying?" Alana asked, pressure placed gently behind her voice. Her breathing hitched in her chest causing pain before she shook her head. She couldn't tell them. It would only create trouble and they had cleansed her already. 

"Elizabeth-"

"No."

_"Elizabeth!"_

The wires and plastic hurt when she pulled them from her skin creating welts of blood unlike the ones that kept her on her throne. Everything else afterwards was a blur of movement as people came in and the doctor was removed. 

"It is bloody business which informs, thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld. Nature seems  _dead, and wicked dreams abuse. Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'ed murder. Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, whose howls his watch-"_

* * *

"You're telling me that she was eating his victims?" Jack Crawford leaned against the metal desk. Arms crossed tightly over his chest as his gaze dropped to Alana Bloom who shifted in the seat.

"He was feeding it to her after not giving her actual food for quite some time if evidence shows anything. She believes that all of his victims are King Duncan, a justification. One good enough for her to be eating raw meat from his victims."

No one wanted to say human. To even mention the cannibalism that took place in those woods with what had once been a little girl. 

"I can assure you that she didn't kill. I actually believe that she doesn't understand what was happening completely. I mean to say," Alana took a deep breath before swallowing the lump that was ever so slowly forming in her throat, "this is a woman who was held onto a throne of rotten wood by barbed wire. A woman who was fed raw human flesh and forced to wear things that are unspeakable. A woman who was rapped until her reproductive cycle stopped and I don't even know what he did to her afterwards. A woman who was once a girl. A  _little girl_ who has been doing this for years."

Jack Crawford ran his hands over his face as a weight settled over him. "What would your solution be? Let her go off into the world with the appetite of a cannibal?"

"I would like to attempt to heal her. Which is why I called in Will and Hannibal. It would give her a deviation from the outside world whist bringing her back into society." Alana knew that the idea alone was unimaginable. Most under her profession would have her kept within these walls until the day that she dies, but that would be a waste of life. Giving up on the little girl that had been pronounced dead all of those years ago. 

"Fine, but if this doesn't work and my officers are putting a bullet in your patients head because she runs off and begins to ritually kill and eat people then its on you."

"I can assure you. She won't be."

 


	3. Peripeteia

_It's amazing how things change, the things that are hidden from us by the ones we place our trust in._

* * *

* * *

 

Freddy Lounds huffed over the luke warm cup of coffee sitting within her hands. One serial killer was dead, another held perfectly within police custody, and yet even more serial killers seemed to be on the lose. It was the perfect scenario for her book and all she needed was a story. One story, and there was nothing that Will Graham, Hannibal Lector, or even Jack Crawford could say. 

 

Placing her coffee down she unlocked the car door before shoving her hands into her coat pockets. One anonymous text and all of her plans were falling into place. That was the only reason that she listened to the unknown message. 

The only reason that she drove near an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night. Unlocking her phone she typed as the cold began to seep into the car.

 

_[I am here. Where are you?]_

The message sent with an unresounding beep. 

 

If this unknown number was her road to getting what she wanted-- _what she deserved_ \--then so be it. 

With a quick buzz, Freddy's eyes locked down onto the screen, the unknown number flashing as she pressed down to respond.

_[Right where I need to be. Miss Lounds, if you want a killer then I suggest you find me access to E. Larter.]_

 

"Great. Another asshole to deal with."

* * *

 

The test she hated the most or maybe it was having to sit upon a soft cushion across from Doctor Bloom. The woman kept her distance, yet she wanted to know  _everything_ and somewhere along the lines she was unnerved by all of her request. Not that being kept tied down to that bed in the bright room was any better than sitting in a windowless office.

 

"Today I thought we could discuss some of the more rituals that you took part in. It is a big step, but I believe that you have made progress."

 _Progress._ On the second day there had been blood. One of the guards had upset her, with what she can't remember, and then she painted the walls red once she realised that the color looked more like  _home._ She ate those things that Doctor Bloom called carrots and when the man named Will came by with Hannibal, she didn't try to attack them. Elizabeth wasn't too sure that those things were good, but it made Doctor Bloom more at ease. An outline of muscles relaxing like a deer before their killed.

Picking the skin from around her nails she kept her eyes cast down.

"You know more than most." 

 

The doctor knew of what happened when she gave herself to the witches up until the day when the blood stopped. When she was fed Duncan on days when she was  _good_ and how she would be alone on others for her failures. How on some days she would see-

"Elizabeth." Doctor Bloom was always stern when she didn't do the right thing. 

Pressing herself deeper into the chair she ran her finger tips against the grained wood of the desk. It was so  _perfect_ , unmarked beneath her eyes and skin, so much unlike how her throne had been. "I told you that I never had a child."  _Lady MacBeth never had a child. The children were always obstacles. They always died,_ Elizabeth thought pressing her fingers harder into the wood.

Alana Bloom wasn't going to press the matter, writing down in swift cursive the rather limited observation of their session of the day. The reports from her physical exam showed otherwise, but with how unhealthy she had been when they brought her in Alana had her doubts that anything else could have survived. Coupled with being mentally unfit it made almost a sickening weight to settle in her stomach over 'what if'.

 

"Fine. Tell me how this ends when your more like MacBeth than his-"

Alana frowned as her phone's screen light up marked with an unknown number. She only gave out her number to a few selected people, and during her sessions she always turned it off. It was odd in that way, she could have  _sworn_ that she turned it off before she even stepped foot into work.

 

_[You can run Miss.Bloom, but you can't hide anything from me. Not even yourself. Now tell me, your treating Elizabeth properly, aren't you?]_

* * *

The dreams haunted him every time he looked into the file of the Shakespearean Killer. An off-white cloth fell from his hands no matter how hard he tried to hold on only for more blood to bleed out from beneath it. An all consuming feeling that overwhelmed him until he woke up with sheets sticking to his skin. 

 

Will knew that he needed to back off from the moment that he looked through the tinted glass. There was a less than professional relationship with Hannibal that he was surprised he was being able to hold for so long. More for his lack of stability than how unorthodox it would look if anyone knew. 

Then there was the  _knowing_ look that Hannibal had and Will knew that this was going to be a slippery slope down. He was almost going to bury his face back into his pillow when his phone went off. 

Squinting at the bright screen a wave of unease settled into him. Below the text was a photo, a copy of Shakespeare's MacBeth, with a burning playing card pinned to it.

 

_[Hello Will. We need to talk about our common interest. -Q]_

 

 


End file.
